


To Find a Cure

by ziskandra



Series: Not a Husband [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Epistolary, F/F, Fereldan Culture and Customs, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Love Letters, political machinations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:42:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26988436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziskandra/pseuds/ziskandra
Summary: Letters written to and from Warden-Commander Cousland, Queen Consort of Ferelden, during her search for a cure to the Calling.
Relationships: Female Cousland/Anora Mac Tir
Series: Not a Husband [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021180
Comments: 10
Kudos: 17
Collections: Fic In A Box





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cullenlovesmen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cullenlovesmen/gifts).



My love,

Sleeping without you by my side is most strange indeed. Maker knows I am no stranger to camping, but it does not mean I enjoy it. Not when I could be in our bed, with my arms wrapped around you, relishing in the warmth of your body, breathing in the scent of your soap.

Yet we both know if we are to have many happy days like that together until we are both wrinkled and grey, I must complete my mission. I renew my commitment to not return until I have discovered a cure for my ailment. The song grows louder in my head with every passing day. It wants nothing more for me than to succumb, to allow the Taint to take over, for me to join my brothers and sisters in death. But I do not want to! I refuse! I have so much to live for. You have given me so much to live for. There is still so much I hope to happen between us, for us to live the rest of our lives together in happiness and peace. 

I must confess that before we admitted our feelings to one another I was ready, body and soul, to sacrifice myself for the good of the nation, for the good of Thedas. Now, I want nothing more than to be selfish. Surely that is what I deserve? What we deserve? We have both suffered so much, I feel we are owed some happiness.

Yours now and forever,

Elissa.

* * *

Dearest Elissa,

You know how it frustrates me so when you do not provide me any details about your adventures! I wish I could be by your side, that we could be finding a cure together. I have always enjoyed travelling, and have it on good authority (yours, to be clear) that I look ‘downright stunning’ in full armour. Alas, our duties have called us in different directions: you, a leader of an old, secretive order, protecting the world from an ancient danger, and I, the lowborn ruler of a nation.

Does the Bannorn care my father was made a Teyrn before my birth? Certainly not, because he was a commoner. A disgraced commoner, at that, even if he redeemed himself in many eyes by his sacrifice at the end of the Blight. It is not enough for others, and I must confess that I cannot blame them. The wounds from the civil war have yet to heal for many.

In any case, I digress. I do not mean to complain about my petty problems so. Just know there is rumbling and discontent among the Bannorn once more about our lack of a suitable heir. How I wish you were here to quiet them with just one scowl! The furrow of your brow, the intensity of your eyes… You know how it makes me feel. In any case, I am certainly capable of handling this little problem, despite my deepest desire to do nothing more than run away with you and stick the pointy end of a sword through those who would question us!

All my love,

Anora.

* * *

Dear Anora,

You know it saddens me to hear of your frustration when I am not around to alleviate it. But who am I to leave you wanting? For the record, I am two weeks away from Weisshaupt, and travelling remains much the same as it was the last time you had such an opportunity to do so: my arse hurts from riding, the food is bland, the ground is covered in nug and fennec shit, and my bedroll is empty.

I hear the Wardens have been exiled from Orlais and so many of my brethren are also making the journey, led by now Warden-Commander Stroud. (Do you remember him? He has the most magnificent moustache). At my current pace, it will only be a matter of days before we cross paths. I will most likely join their company, although I certainly do my best not to draw too much unwanted attention to myself. I do not plan to be amongst them long. You of all people would know that I have little love for the Wardens.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it once more: you worry too much of what these others think! Truly, who cares who rules Ferelden once we are dead and gone. All I know is that it will no longer be our problem. That is why I scowl so when the banns play their games and have their petty squabbles: you have far better and more important deeds to be doing like me in your time than attending to the complaints of immature, insecure men.

If at any point you do so desire to join me on my journey you need only ask. Yet, I know you will not, for you love our country so much. I admire that about you, even if I will never truly empathise with it. What has Ferelden done for you, to inspire such devotion? To be sure, there are no protests to your rule as you are a kind and competent leader, but does it not rankle that you will never be as popular as a ruler who has a birthright to the throne?

Fereldans might make such a song and dance about how they are so different to Orlais, but we are not so different from the Orlesians, I think. Who cares who leads so long as they are like you: kind, competent, and beautiful.

But ah, I am getting bothered and distracted and Maker, even at this distance you always know how to fire me up. I suppose I should put my quill down now and attend to these feelings you never fail to inspire in me.

Forever yours,

Elissa.

* * *

My dearest Elissa,

~~Do you touch yourself while thinking of me~~

~~Please tell me more about these feelings I inspire~~

You truly find no joy in riding through the countryside, with the breeze tousling your hair and the wide blue sky above you? I suppose it is not for everyone.

I was not surprised to hear about the Wardens. Given their penchant for involving themselves in political conflicts (you, yourself might remember such an occurrence in the past!) despite their vow of neutrality, it is not surprising that other countries and organisations do not want them meddling in their affairs. I’ve had limited interaction with this Inquisition myself (the debacle with Redcliffe and the mages aside… again, strangely familiar!) But so long as their forces stay focused in the Frostbacks and they continue to keep Ferelden free of demons, I will tolerate their continued presence in our kingdom.

My advisors tell me it was a vulnerability in the Wardens that lead to the rise of this ‘Corypheus’. I am so thankful you are safe. Were you too far away to be drawn into this madness, or were you immune because you were already hearing the song?

Regardless, I am grateful to still have you, regardless of how far away you might be right now. I am not sure if I remember Stroud, but I must confess to paying less attention to men’s facial hair than you. Nonetheless, if you do cross paths with him, please feel free to say hello.

We cannot all lead (nor live) as fearlessly as you, Elissa. You know I will be forever grateful to you for the confidence you gave me to stand before all of Ferelden and name a woman as my wife. Like it or not, however, our decision has caused gossip and rumours from the very beginning. That is not to say I regret it. There is nothing I regret less in my life than loving you. I simply wish to prevent the country I love from descending into another civil war with my passing. We owe Ferelden that much. ~~We owe my father that much~~.

By the by, have you written your family lately? I do believe they miss you.

Love always,

Anora.

* * *

Fergus,

Anora made a peculiar mention of you in her most recent missive to me. Something along the lines of you ‘missing’ me. While I don’t doubt that might be the case, I find the timing most peculiar. I do believe she might be planning to involve you in some plot of hers.

Take care,

Elissa.

* * *

My dear sister,

Your letters are always so short and straight to that point! I do miss that about you, I suppose. For what it’s worth, I am well, and given the general state of the world this year, Highever has not suffered too badly. (Not that you asked, but I know you care deep down, you big softie.)

Elethea has just celebrated her eighth nameday, and her Majesty sent a most beautiful bracelet as a gift. I suppose I ought to be grateful that one of you is paying attention to our family, but I am not so naïve to think that her interest comes without a price.

Rumour has it that the queen is planning to solidify her plans for an heir, and thus her interest in the Cousland family, given she has no siblings of her own. You are her wife, and I do believe that in lieu of having her own descendants ascend to the throne, she has turned her eye to your family. So, me, I suppose. And Elethea.

Maker knows I’ve no interest in ruling a kingdom, and someone must maintain our ancestral lands. I suspect Anora plans to propose Elethea be sent to Denerim in order to learn all sort of courtly duties, although she has yet to say as much. I must say I am in two minds about the prospect. I would miss her, although we have her younger brother to keep us company these days. Do you think she would be suited to the court? Would they treat her well? Would you take good care of her for me?

Ah, but I do prattle on. It is in a father’s nature to worry about his children. Just let it be known that should Anora raise the issue with you, I am not averse to having further discussions on the matter.

I have been informed that you are currently on some top-secret expedition. I hope the ravens do not have too much difficulty finding you, although I’ve every faith in their abilities.

Take care. Stay safe. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.

Your loving brother,

Fergus.

* * *

~~Anora are you out of your mind~~

~~When were you planning on telling me this~~

Dearest love,

I have received the most curious news from my brother. Is it true you plan to ask for my niece to be brought to Denerim to be raised in the art of ruling? For what it is worth, I do not dislike the idea. Nor does Fergus, for that matter. He might be reticent at first to have his only daughter raised so far from her home, but I am sure he will see it is for the good of the kingdom.

~~Did you know before I left~~

I simply implore you to remember there is no need to rush these matters. While it is true that we will one day require an heir, one that is capable of satisfactorily ruling over a united Ferelden as you so rightfully point out, you are only nearing forty. Since we have no plans of having our own issue (unless there is another plot broiling behind my back?), we have many more years to find and prepare an heir of our choosing.

For what it is worth, I have arrived at Weisshaupt, with the contingent of exiled Wardens, in order to gather resources and confirm my leads. I do not like being here, with so many eyes upon me. At least a gaggle of the newer recruits have been distracted by rumours of griffons. Griffons! Of all things! It is almost like being back in Ferelden, in the early days after the Blight. At least the novelty of my presence in Denerim has long worn off! You know I have never liked the title of ‘Hero’, that I simply happened to be in the right place at the right time. Or the wrong place at the worst time, if I might be honest.

Maker forgive me, but I would give up all my accolades and achievements for another day spent with my family before their demise. The only reason I do not wish more fervently for such a life is because I fear our paths might not have crossed the way they did if it was not for everything that happened, and I would not give up our relationship for the world (even if your scheming does drive me batty at times. But you knew that already, I suspect!)

All my love,

Elissa.

* * *

Dearest Elissa,

Firstly, my apologies for not discussing the matters with your family earlier. Truth be told, the thought had been at the back of my mind before your expedition, but honestly the plans did not solidify until after you had left. I know you never cared whether you had children, but you know I sometimes wished for more than what life has given me. That is not to say that I regret any part of our marriage – I do not! ~~I simply wonder if it would have been easier if~~

You know I simply like to solve problems as I foresee them. I have been told this trait of mine can be ‘endearing’. In any case, if your brother and his daughter are amenable, having Elethea tutored in the capital will at the rumours for a good while, at least. Perhaps even longer if she does find she has a taste for it.

I was sceptical I would enjoy Denerim the first time my father took me along with him as a child. My time in Gwaren was already isolating enough, being the teyrn’s daughter. Honestly, at the time, I wanted nothing more than to scrap in the mud with the other children, but their parents saw me as a delicate thing, untouchable. I am certain you’ve no such misconceptions in your mind (although I do admit to bruising easily). I mainly went at my mother’s insistence. And yet, I fell in love with the city, and love it with all my heart to this day. Perhaps your niece will feel the same.

It pleases me to know you have made it to Weisshaupt safely, although I do wish you weren’t quite so far away. How long will you spend there? Where will you go next?

I miss you. I love you.

Take care,

Anora.

* * *

My love,

I remain at Weisshaupt for now, availing myself of the library and the resources within. The Wardens have a rich and extensive history, but much of it has been lost to the annals of time. Perhaps I would not regard the Order with the animosity that I do if the circumstances of my own Joining had not been so dire, that I had only been saved by the then Warden-Commander due to my skill as a warrior. If I was less skilled with a blade, would he have left me to die, alongside my parents?

My mood has been melancholy of late. It does not help that I have little to do here but read and drink. My primary obstacle currently is my desire to have an audience with the First Warden before I leave, yet he has been away at Hossburg for weeks now. Typical Dernheim!

I have confirmed my suspicions at the very least. The rumours of there being a Warden who was cured of the taint are true, and it turns out that said former Warden is closely related to someone we once both knew.

Maker, how can I say this?

It’s Alistair. That is, this Warden is Alistair’s mother.

You know I so rarely regret my actions. We can only ever do what we believe to be best at the time. But how am I supposed to face her after… after everything we’ve done?

I need more wine.

( _The second part of this letter is written on a piece of scrap parchment, in a far messier hand._ )

My head is spinning. I fear I have drunk too much wine. I miss you. I miss pressing kisses against the soft skin of your neck, because you do so bruise so easily, so prettily. I miss seeing you in your high-necked dresses the next day. Then taking them off you later in the evening. More than anything, I miss paying my due to my queen between her thighs, making sure she knows I worship the ground she walks upon. I miss your scent; I miss your taste. I miss your everything. This life is so much more bearable with you by my side. I do not want to die until we are old and grey and drift off into the Fade together for the last time, wrapped in each other’s arms.

I do not deserve a happy ending, but Maker, I want it. ~~He was so young we were so young~~ I want you. I love you. Perhaps I shouldn't be sending this. ~~I don't know how it will be received~~ I will slip it in alongside my other letter and seal it before I dare lose my nerve. 

Love always,

Elissa.

* * *

My love,

So much has transpired since my last letter to you. I am not sure if the news has reached you up in the Anderfels, but the Inquisition has marched south to the Arbor Wilds to make a proactive strike against this Corypheus and have even secured the assistance of the Orlesian army. Although they have stayed far from our borders for now, the mobilisation makes me uneasy. Ser Cauthrien is doing well to fortify the nation’s defences in your stead, although I wish it were not necessary, that you were here, that demons were still not pouring out of the sky.

Perhaps when the current troubles are over, we should seek to deepen our diplomatic ties with Orlais. I know you will protest, much as my father did. Do not fear: my plans in no way resemble Cailan’s; I have no intention of marrying Empress Celene! It simply would make sense to be able to unite the strength of our armies against united threats in future, instead of this current state of mistrust and animosity. I am sure I will be able to come up with an amenable solution.

I hope you can secure a meeting with the First Warden post-haste so you may continue on your journey. If you have yet to do so by the time you receive this letter, perhaps you ought to seek him out in Hossberg. Knowing you, you might have done so already, if it comes to that. Maker knows patience has never been your strong suit.

It troubles me to read of your sadness when I am so far away and can do little to soothe or console you. For what is worth, I believe you will face this lead of yours as you do every other obstacle you have encountered in your life: with your chin up, shoulders squared, and your tongue sharpened. Either she is already well informed of the fate of her son, in which case she has had her time to process her grief and decide whether she wants to meet with you at all, or she is not. If that is the circumstance, it certainly is not your place to tell her. What would the news bring her, except more pain? Forgive my forthrightness, but it is rare for mages to maintain a relationship with their children. It is one of the unfortunate realities of growing up in this world.

For what it is worth, our bed feels so empty without you (and Dog) by my side. It is so large, and I am so small. I want nothing more than to feel the fine bristles of your neatly shorn head underneath my fingertips, for you to smile that sweet lopsided smile of yours, whispering against my ear. Feeling lucky? you would ask, and I would answer yes, yes, yes, because I always do when I am with you, in every sense of the words.

Forgive me for my forwardness here but we have been apart for so long.

( _The writing begins to slant._ ) Most nights when I touch myself, I try to imagine they are your fingers instead, warming myself up the way you do so skilfully. It is not the same, though: my digits are thinner, bereft of the callouses that brush against my sensitive skin. I can bring myself to climax, but it is a smaller mountain I have climbed. Nonetheless, it is still your name I breathe into the air when I reach completion.

Tell me, my love: when you’re alone in your quarters late at night, do you touch yourself the same way?

Forever yours,

Anora.

* * *

Dear Fergus,

I believe Anora will have been in touch with you by now. For what it’s worth, I can see no harm in Elethea visiting Denerim for a time, to see if it is to her liking. You know Anora will take excellent care of her and ensure she has the best tutors in all of Ferelden.

I hope you and the family are well.

Love,

Elissa.

* * *

Dearest Anora,

First, I much your earlier sentiment, of so much happening, so quickly. It seems like only days ago you were worried about this heretic organisation consolidating power within Ferelden’s borders, and now, their enemy has been defeated. What happens now, I wonder? With the new Divine being elected from their leadership, I doubt they will simply fade into the background. Perhaps that is for the best. Perhaps the Chantry does require reformation. Divine Victoria certainly has an unenviable challenge before her, in any case.

The state of world events has fortuitously made my current goals more achievable for now. With the reinstatement of the Circle of Magi, I have it on good word that the Grand Enchanter is returning to Cumberland. That is where I will go next. Why, you might ask? Because the woman with which I must speak, the only Warden who has ever been cured of the Taint, is none other than the Grand Enchanter herself.

Oh, how I wish you could be by my side when I meet with her! You always possessed a way with words that I did not. By the way, I did end up meeting with the First Warden (I did end up travelling to Hossberg, how did you know?) and I must admit that I might have lost my temper. For the better or worse, I believe he finds me ‘intimidating’. In any case, I have followed the official channels – not a sentence I thought I would ever write. Now, my time is own, in every way except which matters the most.

To answer your question: I always think of you when I pleasure myself, my love. How I’m the only one who sees you with your hair down (figuratively and literally), the way your curls spill down your shoulders as I crook my fingers within you and wrench my name from your lips. You know I could reach completion from watching your climax alone. You are beautiful, ethereal, transcendent. Like you shouldn’t even be real, but you are always so solid and warm in my arms. I cannot wait to feel your weight by my side as I sleep once again.

Your forever and always,

Elissa.

* * *

To the Grand Enchanter at the College of Magi, Cumberland:

I know your separation from the ranks of the Grey Wardens was not painless, but I have questions about your time in the Order that none other can answer. I hate to be an imposition but if I would be able to secure a meeting with you in these coming weeks, I would be most grateful and in your debt.

Warmly,

Warden-Commander Cousland.

* * *

Warden-Commander Cousland,

It would be remiss of me to say I thought this moment would never come. You are not a subtle woman, although I’m certain you are aware of that already. I am hardly in a position to cast judgements, myself.

I will make myself available to you upon your arrival in Cumberland.

Safe travels,

Grand Enchanter Fiona.

* * *

My dear sister!

You and your wife make a formidable team. In a short fortnight, Elethea will be leaving to spend three months in Denerim. A trial run, so to speak. We will see if she is more suited to the royal court than you and I.

I know your current expedition is of an indeterminate length, and that it is at the queen’s hospitality that Elethea will spend time at the palace, but … Maker, you always seem to be up to your neck in it, don’t you? Your journey must be most perilous indeed.

~~Why does it sound as though you’ve no intention of returning~~. I hope you are staying safe. There is so much uncertainty in the world these days. Give that hound of yours a chin scratch from me and William, will you?

Your loving brother,

Fergus.

* * *

My darling,

You know, I’ve never had much chance to travel outside our country’s borders. I must admit, I’m quite jealous! It must be fascinating to meet with people outside the usual banns and arls which we must ordinarily contend with. … I concur that such an activity might be more relevant to my interests than yours. Even when you are not at your wit’s end, you always preferred solving ends with the pointy end of a sword, didn’t you?

I do fear you’ve rubbed off on me. In many more ways than one. What route will you be taking to Cumberland? Do take care if you travel by the Imperial Highway – much of Thedas is still in disarray, but the Imperium remains more dangerous than usual. Not that I have any doubt about your ability to take care of yourself. Still. I worry.

I wish you the best of luck with your meeting with the Grand Enchanter. It certainly sounds like there are a multitude of forces at play which are far beyond our understanding. Or, at the very least, my own.

You most likely have heard from your brother already, but your niece is now on her way to Denerim. I promise to take good care of her and ensure that her upbringing models my own. Her chambers have been prepared, and I have selected the best handmaids to wait upon her.

Love,

Anora

* * *

Anora,

~~I don’t~~

~~How do I say this~~

I have made it safely to Cumberland and met with the Grand Enchanter as planned. If she held any anger or harboured any suspicions regarding the role we played in Alistair’s fate, she did not air them. Indeed, I found her most level-headed indeed, a consummate professional. It seems the rumours that bled through the continent in the wake of the mage rebellion were exaggerated, as such events often are. ~~I cannot imagine such a diminutive, well-mannered woman yelling 'Fuck the Divine!'~~

In any case, the information Fiona was able to provide was unfortunately irrelevant to my situation, or that of most the Wardens. Even she is unable to deduce what, precisely, removed the Taint from her blood, although she certainly has her suspicions, and they lead back to one of our (least) favourite topics: the Theirins. I’m sure you were raised on the same tales as I regarding the feats of Calenhad the Great, and how he united our nation, and furtively read the ones that spoke to the darker side of our hero’s history. I speak to, of course, the claims that his powers were obtained by drinking the blood of a dragon. This must have provided Calenhad with powers beyond our wildest reckonings, for it was only after giving birth to her son that the Taint in Fiona’s blood disappeared.

It feels awful, but a small part of me is grateful that laying with Alistair is no longer an option. There are many lengths I would go to in order to be able to live the rest of my life peacefully by your side, but I am certain I could never go through with a pregnancy as an ends to a means, even if I were able to conceive at all.

There is some merit to the theory, however, despite how unsuitable it is for my own goals.

I speak as to what occurred on the eve of the Battle of Denerim.

( _The writing grows shakier, the loops in the cursive larger._ ) 

I never spoke to you in detail about the events of that night, and you have always respected my silence. I suppose it was because the beginning of our relationship was fraught with tension, despite our undeniable attraction to one another, and I didn’t want my decisions to negatively influence your opinion of me, any more than they had already.

For what it’s worth, I no longer hold that opinion of you. There is nothing in this world you could do which would stop me from loving you, and I hope beyond hope that the feeling is reciprocated.

Anyway. You might recall that for a time during the Blight, one of my travelling companions was a Witch of the Wilds. Morrigan, her name was. On the eve of the battle, she came to me with a proposition. As you have probably deduced, the slaying of an Archdemon always comes at the cost of a Warden’s life – in this case, your father’s. Morrigan knew of an ancient magic that would allow the Archdemon to be killed without sacrifice. A ritual copulation with a new Warden recruit would allow the Archdemon’s essence to be drawn into an unborn babe instead of the nearest Warden. A Warden’s soul cannot survive contact with an Archdemon’s essence, but with the help of the ritual, this child, still in the womb, could.

You know I have always had a strong distrust of blood magic. Not because I am a particularly religious person, nor because it is inherently evil, but because I mistrust people experimenting with magic beyond our reckoning, especially when the lives of innocents are involved. Who knows what effect this exposure to the Archdemon could have on the child? If I’d a better relationship with Morrigan, perhaps I could have asked her more questions about the consequences, but our bond was always tenuous at best. Even if it was better, I am still uncertain as to whether I would have believed her.

Perhaps I am projecting. Perhaps I am still bitter I never had any choice about becoming a Warden, of being condemned to a slow, poisonous death.

I must confess, I did not even bring the proposal to your father. Maker knows he would have gone through with it if I had insisted, but I had no desire to do so – and forgive me for being presumptive, but I doubt he had any qualms about sacrificing his life for the nation, given everything I knew about him, and all that happened during the war.

It seems this lead has only led to some unfortunate implications, and it is time to follow another. I will keep you updated on my movements.

All my love,

Elissa.

* * *

Dearest Elissa,

I do not envy your predicament for a moment. I thank you for confiding in me, and you are correct: my opinion of you has not changed at all. Or, if it has, it is only for the better. You have endured so much, my love. It is understandable you now want to make decisions on your own terms without causing any of the pain you have suffered.

For what it’s worth, I would not ask you to go to lengths such as laying with a man even if it were a feasible option. Maker knows that having such relations with a person to whom you are not attracted is a mentally tiring task, even if it is in your own best interests.

You may not have known my father well, but you have a good measure of your character. I imagine it brought him a great deal of peace to be an instrumental part of Ferelden’s continued survival, especially after inadvertently causing so much suffering.

~~Do you blame him? For what happened to your parents?~~

His statue continues to inspire fear in the heart of Orlesians, for which I am grateful.

Your niece has now arrived in Denerim and has settled in remarkably well. She is certainly more… well-rounded, shall we say, than I was at her age. She certainly has had no trouble making friends, with the offspring of other nobles and the servants alike. The tutors of Highever must certainly be sent their accolades, for she is one of the most intelligent children I have ever met. I must say, I was surprised by how similar you both look, but the Cousland countenance has always been very strong, hasn’t it? It is remarkably odd seeing that face smiling so freely, in public, yet heart-warming all the same.

I wish you the best of luck in the next step of your journey, although I do not think you need it.

Take care. Stay safe.

Much love,

Anora.

* * *

To the Grey Warden Avernus at Soldier’s Peak,

It has been some time since we have spoken last, but I find myself both travelling in your neck of the woods and curious for an update on your research. Could I trouble you for a moment of your time?

Kind regards,

Warden-Commander Cousland.

* * *

Warden-Commander Cousland,

How very strange, yet delightful, to receive correspondence from you after all this time, and in such a fashion. Surely you know, as Ferelden’s Warden-Commander, I work under your instruction. Ever since we parted ways, my research has met and exceeded your exacting ethical standards. It would be my pleasure to receive you should you find yourself at Soldier’s Peak.

Your loyal servant,

Avernus.

* * *

My dearest Anora,

I travel further south as I follow my next lead. It is an uncomfortable journey – you know I have never been a fan of cooler weather. Dog is beginning to show his age, his bones creaking as he settles down for the evening yet all the same still ferocious and persistent in battle. Not that there has been much in the way of battles, mind you. Mostly he keeps me safe from the more curious wildlife.

It warms my heart to hear Elethea is enjoying her time in Denerim thus far. It certainly sounds as though she is more mature than I was at her age, not that my parents encouraged me to spend much time in the capital. I know we both have our suspicions as to why that might have been the case. 

Your words always serve as a reassurance for me, although how I wish I could hear them lovingly whispered into my ear while held in your arms instead of reading the dried ink on the page! Instead I must imagine you, quill in hand, your forehead creased in that endearing way of yours whenever you are thinking deeply. I wish I could kiss the crinkles at the corner of your eyes.

Ah, but I am getting distracted again! I have had much (too much) time alone with my own thoughts on my travels. Even despite your kindness, your love, I sometimes wonder if my life would have been easier if I had been more open-minded, had been more willing to listen to the perspectives of those whose views challenge my own.

~~Perhaps Morrigan could help but I dare not ask~~

I had thought my days of making such difficult decisions were done with the Blight, but it appears life has many challenges for me yet.

I miss you. Say hello to Elethea for me.

Love,

Elissa.

* * *

My darling,

Thank you for keeping me updated on your journey. Where in Southern Thedas are you headed? Hopefully your travels are not hindered by the weather, and that Dog does not struggle too greatly. I do miss that hound, even if he exasperates me at times. In any case, I certainly recall why your parents wanted to keep you from spending time in the capital. I know the idea still brings you much unease to this day, but it was common knowledge that your parents intended for you to inherit the teynrir in your brother's stead. Not to say your brother is not a skilled ruler. He has has more than risen to the occasion, and his loyalty to the crown is certainly assured. 

It brings me a small measure of sadness to know you have been questioning your past actions so. You know what they say, love: the road to damnation is paved with possibilities. I know it is easier said than done but I would implore you to focus more on the future, on what can be done now, instead of dwelling upon the past. The truth of the matter, as women, powerful women, there will always be those who cast judgement upon our decisions, no matter what they might be. With that in mind, why shouldn’t we do what we will? It as you have said: we have both endured so much, we deserve some happiness, to carve out those quiet selfish moments where we can. We make the decisions we must, and we should not regret them, for they were right for us at the time.

It is a fact of life that one cannot be beloved by everyone. That being said, if there are any requests you would make of anyone, I firmly believe there is no harm in asking, and would encourage you to do so if it would be useful to you. I have every confidence in your ability to approach life’s challenges with your usual persistence and obstinate.

Elethea sends her regards: she has been growing more fascinated by the Wardens of late, and I was wondering you had any tales you would like to share with her?

All my love,

Anora.

* * *

Dear Elethea,

This is your Aunty Elissa. I’m sorry it’s taken so long for me to write you. I’m sure your father and Aunty Anora have told you I’m no good with words and letters and they’re unfortunately right.

Anora tells me you’ve a growing interest in the Wardens. I’m sure your tutors have told you all the tales of glory from the Fifth Blight. They’re mostly true: the disgraced general Loghain Mac Tir (Anora’s father!) redeemed himself in the eyes of the nation by sacrificing his life to slay the archdemon, thus ending the Blight. You’ve likely heard the songs they’ve spun about the Wardens’ victory, too. How we were so strong, so brave, so fearless.

That part’s not so true, though. We were so scared, so much of the time. (Yes, even Loghain). Sometimes it was only the fear of something worse happening that kept us going. And the truth is, most days now are just like they were back then. It’s okay to be frightened, pup, and anyone who tells you otherwise is lying.

Most of the Wardens I’ve ever met have been people who never quite belonged anywhere else. Truth be told, we are an order of misfits with nothing else to lose, and it is that, perhaps, which unites us. Perhaps it is that which makes me less interested in life among the Warden’s ranks (which I’m sure Aunty Anora has not kept secret). I love my life in Denerim, with my family, and I look forward to spending time with you properly.

Take good care of your Aunty Anora for me, will you?

Love,

Aunty Elissa.

* * *

Aunty Elissa, 

Aunty Anora is starting to get worried about you. Did you get her last letter? When will you reply to her? She doesn't tell me anything, but I ~~here~~ hear her say your name followed by 'birds!'. Are there lots of birds where you are? Have you ever seen the colourful ones from up north? There's drawings in the books I read. I think I would like to see them one day. I want to go on adventures like you when I am old enough, even if they can be scary. My tutors say I can't run away and join the Wardens though, that I am needed ~~hear~~ here. I don't know what for, but I always ~~hear here~~ hear them talking. I miss Daddy and William and it makes me sad but I know it is better for me here, and Aunty Anora is very nice to me. I can see why you like her so much. She always talks of you with much fondness. When I grow up, I hope I find a similar love in my life. 

I will make sure Aunty Anora doesn't cause mischief in your absence. 

Love,

Elethea 

* * *

Dear Anora,

I’m most sorry for the delay in my response. I have picked up and set down my quill again a multitude of times over these recent days. It is only the vivid image of you sending another raven that pecks at my fingers (and perhaps my eyes) until I answer which has given me the courage to write this response.

Firstly, I have not been entirely honest with you. I suspect you have already figured it out, but my travels have taken me back to Ferelden for now. I thought about detouring through Denerim, but I fear if I were to return to your side, I would not have the strength to leave once more.

Unfortunately, my lead here has proved unfruitful, not that I expected a happier outcome. There is a way to unnaturally prolong a Warden’s lifespan with blood magic, but it does not remove the Taint from one’s blood, the corruption that creeps at the very edges of one’s soul. Perhaps it is a solution for others. I am happy the research exists, and for it to continue.

It is not for me.

Maker, I don’t know how to put this in words. I’ve been struggling with the best way to say this ever since I left, but Anora… I am terrified. Terrified and angry. Terrified that I might very well die without seeing your face again, angry that we only had a scant ten years to spend together. We always deserved so much more.

( _The ink of the words on the page has begun to run, smeared with the tear drops._ )

I know when I left Denerim I promised I would return to you, but it is with a heavy heart and a heavy hand I admit it is a promise I might not be able to keep.

Perhaps this quest is a fool’s errand. Perhaps I should avail myself of the options that are available to me. See if I can find one of Cailan’s bastards or seek out the witch or take the mage Warden’s experimental potion. But these options chafe of compromise and I am sick of half-measures. If I must die, it is to be on my own terms! Not succumbing to the Calling in the Deep Roads, or worse, on the surface itself. If I must die, let it be in the service of one final grand adventure.

To that end, I have contacted a mysterious group of people who live far across the Eastern Sea, into the uncharted territories. You might have heard rumours of them before: a mysterious group called the Executors, who rarely meddle in Thedosian affairs. They have invited me to join them in their lands, even though I have my doubts the ship would survive the journey. Maker knows if ravens can last the distance.

But I cannot live wondering, not knowing if there is yet another avenue, I was too frightened to explore. If I am lost at sea, then so be it. If anything, it’s almost becoming some sort of Fereldan tradition.

I am so scared. But I always have been. The only times the terror in my heart has abated has been when I’ve been by your side.

I will be setting sail from Gwaren before too long, and rest assured I will be thinking of you every step of the way. If I do not have another chance to write you once more, know this:

You are the best thing that ever happened to me.

I love you.

I will always love you.

I will love you until I draw my final breath.

Yours, forever and always,

Your loving wife, Elissa Cousland

* * *

Dearest Elissa,

Oh, Elissa, Elissa, Elissa. It must have been hard for you to put these thoughts into words once and for all! For what it’s worth, I always had my suspicions that it might end this way between us, and for all your promises to return to my side (and for all I wish you might do so), I never doubted your mission might end in failure. It is not that I don’t believe in you, your resilience and strength, but that I have always been a pragmatist. Although I suspect you are well aware of this already.

You might wonder why I was not direct in airing my concerns with you, and I must confess it is because I did not wish to unnecessarily add to your burdens. You have already endured so much my love. I did not want you to be sad on my account. If you do not return, rest assured I will mourn your passing for the rest of my life. But I cannot neglect my duties to Ferelden. You have long admired my ability to play the Game, despite your light-hearted (?) complaints about my plotting and scheming. While your death would be a deep, personal blow, I have had to consider the effect it will have on the country.

Like it or not, it is only our union that has ensured Ferelden this decade of stability, hence the urgency with which I must identify a future potential heir. Elethea is the perfect choice: the daughter of one of the longest-serving noble houses in the country, a lineage that dates to back before the unification … and I imagine both you and I have a vested interest in ensuring the Guerrins don’t cast another hopeful eye upon the throne. We know that Teagan has little love for our country, but who knows what he might be put up to if encouraged by his brother?

I must admit it is not only Ferelden’s interests I have at heart but also our own. Selfishly, I want for out families to be linked beyond our death. I know the time for me to have my own child is running out, and this is the alternative that pleases me most.

Being angry and scared is understandable. Maker knows I have keenly experienced both emotions during my time as Ferelden’s ruler. It is as you told Elethea (did you not think she would show me that letter?): it is okay to be frightened. I only wish you had told me earlier, although I know why you didn’t. You have never been one to be honest with your feelings, not even with yourself. My father was much the same way, until near the end, at least.

I wish you the best of luck in your journey. If you are to meet your end, then I know it won’t be without a fight, and that Dog will be by your side until those last fateful moments. That thought brings me much comfort. Few people deserve to die alone.

You have done so much in service of this country, and I will ensure your efforts do not go to waste. You have given me love I never thought I would receive, and I will remember it for the rest of my life.

I know you have never been one for religion, but I lit a candle and prayed for you at the chapel today. May the Maker’s guidance light your path and lead you on your journey.

I love you. I will always love you.

Forever and always,

Anora.


	2. Coda

The clouds are grey and heavy, hanging low in the horizon fat with the promise of rainfall. Elissa eyes the sky nervously, drawing her heavy cloak more tightly around her body. The journey from Gwaren will be perilous enough without an incoming storm. There is a strange feeling in her blood, different from the familiar corruption of the Taint. She realises it is unease. After everything she’d experienced ten years ago, during the Blight, she had thought she would at least have gotten over the nerves of embarking on a new adventure.

But her imminent travels across the sea is nothing like tracing her steps through the well-worn paths of Thedas. Even the places that are not so frequented by foreigners are visited by merchants and historians alike, and they had returned to tell the tale. Elissa had never struggle to find a guide, whether in book form or in the shape of a person, when venturing into new locations for the first time. Today, however, marked the start of an adventure which would truly test her capabilities, her resilience. 

The journey that Elissa is presented with now is unlike any she’s ever faced before. Nobody has ever sailed off beyond the Eastern Sea and survived. Perhaps the cure she seeks does exist in these foreign lands. What good would it be if she finds it, but cannot return to Thedas, to Ferelden, to her family?

The thought of succeeding scares her more than failure.

As she sits by the docks, waiting for her ship to be ready for boarding, she hears the curious clatter of hooves in the distance. Gwaren is a quiet town, inaccessible except for the sea and the narrow passage that winds through the Brecilian Forest. The people of Gwaren keep to themselves, for the most part.

Curious to see if there will be others joining her on this perilous boat ride, Elissa gets to her feet to meet them, Dog faithfully padding after her with a tired boof. As she reaches the top of the crest, she leans down to scratch her hound behind his ears. Is it her imagination, or is there more grey streaked in his fur then there was yesterday? 

She doesn’t have much time to consider the question as before she can properly process what has occurred, Dog lets out an excited bark, infused with more energy than he has expressed in weeks.

Before Elissa can stop him, he begins to run.

With a yelp, she gives chase. Elissa knows there are few sights in the world more terrifying than having a mabari war hound run at full pelt in one’s direction, and she had helped end a Blight. The last thing she needs right now is to be entangled in a needless battle when she is so close to leaving the town (country, continent) for good. “Heel, boy!” she calls as she races after her loyal companion, three horse-mounted warriors coming into sight, but it turns out she needn’t have worried at all. It is not an attack her hound has on his mind. Instead, Dog whinnies and jumps on the other party’s lead fighter as they dismount from their horse. It’s a woman. She leans down and pats Dog with overly familiar motions, and the hound returns the gesture by leaping up and planting a big, slobbery kiss against her cheek right after she removes her helmet.

She removes her helmet.

Her hair is tightly drawn into two tight buns, formed by braids wrapped around each other.

It can’t be. It is.

Feeling like she can barely breathe, Elissa’s legs move as though of their own volition, one shaky step in front of the other until she is standing before the love of her life and it is all she can do to gasp out her name before Anora grabs the sides of her face and kisses her soundly.

Elissa feels like she’s drowning, drowning in a pleasurable pool of sweet surrender she thought she’d never taste again. Maker, had she truly forgotten how soft Anora's lips are, and how she is so passionate in her affections? They part for breath far sooner than Elissa would like, and it is only then that she remembers they have an audience. Taking a moment to properly take notice of Anora’s companions, she quickly identifies Ser Cauthrien as one, although that almost goes without saying. Anora would never embark on a journey like this without Elissa or Cauthrien by her side. The man is Ser Harold, one of Elissa's most trusted lieutenants.

Harold and Cauthrien's gazes are politely averted, as though pretending that they haven’t just see their Queen inappropriately ravish her wife in a public setting. Cauthrien, at the very least, had accidentally stumbled across worse scenes in the early days of Elissa's marriage to Anora. 

“Anora,” Elissa starts, surprised by how her voice crackles. "Anora." Her wife's name feels foreign on her tongue. "You look--" _Beautiful_ she wants to say. Anora always does, but there's something about the sight of her wife in full armour that never fails to make Elissa weak at the knees. Anora is stunning, radiant. 

Anora interrupts her with the prod of a gauntleted finger against the soft linen of her tunic. “Did you really think I would let you leave without saying goodbye?”

Much to Elissa’s embarrassment, tears prick at the corner of her eyes. She has not cried in many years. Not since before the Blight. Not since -- no, don't think about that now. She should have taken a detour past Highever, said a proper goodbye to Fergus, and to the place where her parents were slain. Despite her best attempts to forget, she thinks about it anyway. That worst night of her life. Despite whatever she will face in the future, whatever comes next, she knows it will not be as terrible as the attack on Castle Cousland. She has had to be brave for so long. Blinking several times in quick succession, Elissa hopes the flutter of her eyelids will quell her sadness, or at least hide it from her wife. 

She fails utterly, and the tears spill anyway. It's like they're not just coming from behind her eyes but right from the pit of her stomach, shooting up through the centre of her chest, piercing her heart. She is sobbing like a babe, and if she must have a breakdown like this in front of anyone, she's glad she's with Anora. Elissa clutches onto her wife, as though afraid that if she lets go, Anora will disappear from underneath her fingertips, like a ghost, like smoke, like a spirit from the Fade. Elissa attempts valiantly to find places in the grooves of Anora's armour she can cling onto, wishing and wishing she could feel the warmth, the curves, of her wife’s body beneath the protective metal. Maker, what would she give to be able to sequester Anora away to a quiet room in a tavern and simply enjoying being with her one last time, to act upon all the desires they had expanded upon in their letters! But there is not enough time. There has never been enough time. Elissa buries her face into the smooth, exposed skin of Anora’s neck, murmuring, “You didn’t need to come.”

Anora laughs, soft and breathy. Sweet Andraste, Elissa had missed that laugh. Was there any sound in the world that was so musical, so inspirational? “No,” Anora agrees. “But it is what I wanted.” She presses a soft kiss against Elissa’s dampened cheek. “I worried I would not make it in time.” Dog whinnies at their heels and Anora leans down to rub his belly. 

“You almost didn’t,” Elissa confesses, giddy and terrified in equal parts. She does her best to ignore the churning of her gut and simply enjoy the moment for what it is. Dog lets out an excited bark. It brings a smile to Elissa's face. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say he wants to go home with you." She has half a mind to send Dog away. Was it fair of her to bring him along on this journey? Nonetheless, she knows it is a command he would never follow. Mabari war hounds were attached to their masters, and Dog would never willing say goodbye to Elissa if there was even a whiff of uncertainty about her eventual return.

And oh, Maker, she is so filled with uncertainty these days.

Despite having avoided returning to the palace before leaving the country, she can't help but be glad Anora has come to see her off. Elissa wonders why the thought had never occurred to her before. Even if she hadn't explicated her travel movements to Anora, Elissa knew her wife would be keeping a watchful eye on her, through the lens of her spymaster. Perhaps this is the best way everything could have worked out. Her plans are set in motion, and there is no force in Thedas that can stop her now she is so close to the next step. But at least she has a chance to say goodbye, before she leaves for good. 

She could not guarantee the same if she had detoured in Denerim. If she had, there might have been no departure at all. She looks over her shoulder at the docks, where her ship is waiting. “There was a delay and I’m still waiting to board,” Elissa adds. Almost as though they have been overheard, a hooded figure pads silently towards them from the pier, their heavy cloak masking any identifying features.

An Executor, Elissa had recently learned. She did not know from where they had received the name, nor could she discern its meaning. What were they executing? Or was it whom? Would it be her?

She supposed she would find out soon enough. As Dog solicits pats and belly rubs from both Cauthrien and Harold, Elissa grasps Anora’s hands in her own, the metal cool against her skin.

“I'd never dream of separating a mabari from its master," Anora says, eyeing the Executor warily, back stiffening as it so often does around strangers, every inch the regal queen instead of simply Anora. "I’ll love you for the rest of my life,” she adds, and despite the stiffness of her limbs, her voice is honeyed rich with affection.

“And the same to you,” Elissa answers, squeezing Anora's hands gently. This time, this farewell, she will only make promises she can actually to keep. Even if the rest of her life is shaping to be a lot shorter than Anora’s, it doesn’t make her vow any less true. “Say goodbye to my family for me,” she adds, her voice cracking once more. Elethea. Fergus. William. Maker, she should have spent more time with them all. 

“Our family,” Anora corrects, kissing Elissa softly once more.

Elissa doesn’t want to let go. But she must. “Our family,” she agrees, her heart hammering with the implications of farewells. That whatever she says next might be the very last words her wife ever hears from her.

The Executor, waiting patiently, taps a gloved finger against Elissa’s shoulder. “It’s time,” they say.

A flash of hot panic runs through Elissa’s belly. Her hands shift to grasp Anora’s shoulders. “Anora. Anora. Listen to me.”

Anora stares back at Elissa, intently hanging onto her every word. Is this really it? Their final goodbye? There are no words that can truly capture the magnitude of the moment.

Elissa wets her lips. “Anora. When I die…” She takes a deep ragged breath, stopping short. She’d never actually confronted her inevitable death before, like it was something that was absolutely going to happen instead of something she was desperate to prevent.

She’d never been the type for wills or testimonies or succession planning. That had been her wife’s forte. She doesn’t know what to say.

She goes with her gut.

“When I die,” she finally continues, blood roaring in her ears, “I don’t want another fucking statue.”

Cauthrien laughs before Anora even has a chance to process what Elissa's said. There's a moment where they're all laughing, the three of them, and even Dog seems to be joining in. 

"Take care," Ser Cauthrien tells her, as Ser Harold wishes her a safe journey. 

With great reluctance, Elissa slips her hands out of Anora's grasp. It is one of the hardest things she has ever had to do in her whole life. Despite the humidity in the air, her mouth is dry. She thanks the knights for their well-wishes and their service, mouths one last 'I love you' to Anora, manages to extract Dog from his buffet of belly rubs, and turns to follow the Executor onwards to her next adventure. 


End file.
